


Space Seed

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universes, AoS Spock in ToS universe, Canon Compliant, Episode Space Seed, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of canon character death, Reality Jumping, T'hy'la bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 18:48:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14478918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: By now, Spock should know better than to attempt beaming through an ion storm, but sometimes their missions give them no choice.  And sometimes the consequences are landing in a universe you don't belong to.  Spock knows if given enough time, he can find his way back to his bondmate, and his universe.  But when he comes face to face with the monster who almost killed Jim Kirk, he's not sure he can keep control.  (AoS Spock in Space Seed)





	Space Seed

**Author's Note:**

> So I was thinking about more AoS Jim making it to ToS universe, and then I was like...but what if Spock beams into the ToS Universe when Khan is on the ship...
> 
> And then this happened.

“Can you stop looking at me like that?”

Spock hears the tension in Jim’s voice camouflaged by the annoyance in his tone that he can feel is all feigned through the pulse of their bond. “I am looking at you no differently than I do on any standard mission.”

“You have the kicked puppy look, Spock. You know why I gave the order. The only person who can possibly handle diplomacy on planet with these people is you, and the only way they granted that is if I accept one of them here to…”

“I am aware of the reasons behind your decision.” Spock makes a split-second decision and reaches over, stopping the turbo-lift. It eases into stillness, and then Spock turns and pushes Jim backward against the wall, bracketing his head on either side with flat palms against the cool metal. “Accepting your orders is easy, because you are my Captain, and understanding that you must make more difficult decisions in the face of danger is no hardship for me. But you are t’hy’la, Jim. You are beloved to me. When you are in danger, it causes me distress. I will not be compromised but, as you are so fond of saying, I do not have to like it.”

Jim huffs a quiet laugh and reaches up, brushing fingers against Spock’s meld points. Even if he can’t initiate a meld himself, Spock can still feel him closer than if they weren’t touching. Spock lets his eyes slip closed, a sign of absolute trust, as Jim leans in and kisses him softly. Hands find one another, brushing fingers in the way of his father’s people. “I’m going to be careful. I promise.”

Spock nods, and doesn’t voice how often times, their intentions do not matter, for it is the nature of their jobs. They are an exploratory ship, a diplomatic one, not made for war. But they have weapons on their ships and on their person because making contact with other cultures has proven time and time again, they are a necessity. Jim reaches up and cups Spock’s face.

“I’m going to worry about you too, down there. I hate that I can’t be with you.”

“I will return to you, my Jim,” Spock says quietly. Jim lets the words wash over him, and Spock can feel their effect through the bond and it is satisfying enough. It is young—six pint two months, not yet having seen him through his pon farr, but it is t’hy’la, and unbreakable. It is everything.

Jim surges up for another kiss, and as their lips press together, Jim reaches behind Spock and pushes the button on the lift. They break apart just as the lift reaches the transporter room, and Spock lets Jim walk ahead to bark orders at Pavel who is waiting to beam him down to the planet. It’s tricky—the ion storm which often gives them trouble, is making communications tricky, but to delay could mean the ruin of this fragile treaty and that’s the last thing they need.

“Ready, sir,” Pavel says to Jim.

Spock turns and nods to the away-team—a handful of ensigns personally approved by Jim, and then approved by the Dekkahn Ministers of Peace. He looks at his Captain, at his beloved, and holds his ta’al, letting their gaze and their bond connect and embrace where their bodies cannot in front of the crew. “I will be in contact as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Mr. Spock. And I don’t believe I need to wish you luck.”

“That would be most illogical, Captain,” Spock says, then he steps onto the transporter pad and nods to Pavel who begins to input the coordinates. He glances at Jim once more, then feels the numbness settle into his skin and bones as his atoms are gently pulled apart.

~*~ 

Spock materializes on the transporter pad, blinking in vague surprise. Pavel is no longer there, but a young ensign in a red shirt that Spock has seen before, though he swears he was from engineering.

“Welcome back, Mr. Spock,” he says.

Spock blinks at him. “That is most disconcerting, ensign. Where is the captain?”

“I believe he’s on the bridge, sir. Are you alright?”

“I am…uncertain,” Spock admits, though he knows it’s unwise to admit such a weakness to a subordinate. “I appear to be in possession of all my faculties however, and my health is uncompromised. Please comm the Captain and let him know I will be on the bridge presently.” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Something feels…wrong. Something about the ship is all wrong. The color, the shape, the sound, the smell. It’s as though someone has copied it—copied everything about it, down to the last bolt and screw, and got it almost right, but not exactly. The hues are different, the placement of doors, of lights, of turns. Just a centimeter off, but it’s enough for Spock’s Vulcan senses to notice.

He had beamed away, and clearly had been gone for some time as the ensign had welcomed him back, and Jim was no longer near the transporter room. Spock closes his eyes, tries to feel Jim through the bond, but there is nothing. Just an echoing silence. That is not completely unusual. Often times during missions of high stress they will shield to prevent distraction, but it doesn’t make any of this feel any more natural.

Spock makes a split-second decision and goes back to the transporter room. The ensign is working on a PADD and looks up, startled. “Something else you need, sir?”

“Ensign,” Spock says slowly, consideringly. “What are the ship calculations for how long I was away? I wish to compare them to my own calculations.”

The ensign taps something onto his PADD. “Two hours, twenty minutes, sir.”

Most disconcerting. “Thank you,” is what he says, then leaves. His mind is quickly arguing between the bridge and sickbay. The doctor would surely be able to tell if his mind was tampered with, but there is the problem that Jim has taken Dekkhan diplomats on board and if they have messed with Spock’s mind and memory on planet, there is no telling the harm they could cause now.

It is truly no argument. Jim and the crew’s safety comes before his own. He might not have his memories, but he is in possession of his abilities and that’s what matters presently. He makes it to the bridge and it is the same—things are almost perfect, but not quite. He briefly considers this is a grand illusion set up by the Dekkhan people, but they have only just become warp-capable and from everything he had studied, they could not possess the technology for such an elaborate set-up. Though they have been fooled before, so Spock is careful not to discount the possibility completely.

He steps onto the bridge and his eyes immediately find Jim. He’s in his captain’s chair and the room is…duller. Maybe it is his eyes having trouble processing light—a medical issue Dr. McCoy will be able to tell. But his sight is otherwise uncompromised, so he approaches Jim’s chair where he’s noticed immediately.

“How were your findings, Mr. Spock?” Jim asks.

His eyes, his face, hold the same affection as they always do, but there is a strangeness about Jim that worries Spock. A distance he’s unused to. He reaches for the bond, for the shield Jim must have up, but he doesn’t find it. Just that echoing emptiness. It floods him with a sense of dread, and it takes him a moment to compose himself.

“Captain, if you can spare a moment, I would like a word in private,” he says.

Not something he would usually say, and that is evident on the naked surprise Jim holds in his expression. He rises. “Mr. Sulu, you have the conn. Please comm me immediately if Dr. McCoy informs that our guests are awake.”

Spock frowns at that, and quickly follows Jim to the turbo-lift. Jim is heading for his Ready Room, which Spock takes comfort in, even if there is a lack of everything they were between them. They don’t say anything, and the silence stretches until they’re behind closed doors.

“Alright, commander. What is it?”

Spock frowns at that, because it has been exactly six months and three days since Jim has called him anything other than his name, or a human term of endearment in private. “Captain,” he says, and waits for Jim to chastise him. He doesn’t. “I’m afraid there may be a problem. First, however, I would like to inquire about the state of the Dekkhan diplomats and why you have claimed they are unconscious?”

Jim frowns. “Spock…what are you talking about? I’ve never heard of the Dekkhans.”

Spock is hit with an almost violent shock, and takes a step backward. “Jim,” he mutters, and it’s like his heart is trying to beat out of his body. He’s not…where he’s supposed to be. This is not his world. And he knows it’s possible, he’s read the historical records and he knows what else is out there, but…

“Mr. Spock,” Jim says, and he takes a step forward with a hand out as though to brace him, but for the first time since bonding, Spock steps away from the touch. It’s too much because this is not _his_ Jim, his t’hy’la. His husband. “Mr. Spock, what’s going on?”

Spock uses every ounce of control he has to reign in his shock. Giving in to an emotional outburst will serve no purpose, and only delay his return back to his universe where he belongs. He straightens his shoulders and shields his emotions from the rest of his mind, and gives Jim a careful look. What he needs to do is determine whether or not it will benefit him to tell this Jim Kirk who he is. There is no way he can feign knowledge about this ship, and his experiences in this world. He simply does not have the context, and Jim in any universe is too smart a man to not figure it out immediately.

“Captain,” Spock says evenly, “how much do you know about other universes?”

Jim blinks at him, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Well, apart from the fact that it’s a journey I never want to take again…”

So, Spock thinks, he has experienced it. “I believe that due to attempting to beam onto my ship during an ion storm, I was transported not to my Enterprise, but to another in a crack between universes. I’m afraid I do not have enough knowledge to hypothesize why this occurred at this particular time, or where, exactly, my universe might reside but…”

“Very funny. Did Bones put you up to this? God, what could he have possibly offered that you’d even do this,” Jim says, and he sounds both annoyed and amused.

Spock fights the urge to sigh and holding it back is a close thing. “Captain, there is very little that Dr. McCoy could ever offer me to get me to agree to such a thing. I am a Vulcan. We do not lie, we do not pull pranks.”

“Well, yeah,” Jim says slowly, looking at Spock very carefully. “For other Universe Spock, you sure are missing your facial hair. And I met you. Believe me, I’d remember you.”

Spock shakes his head. “If one universe exists, it is only safe to assume there are multiple doorways to multiple realities. Where I am from, we were attempting to negotiate peace with the Dekkhans, a species you have, presumably, not encountered yet in your journey.”

All the humor has gone from Jim’s face, and it’s clear from his expression that he’s actually considering what Spock’s saying. It’s also in this moment their gazes truly meet and Spock notices that Jim’s eyes are hazel, not blue. The striking difference is like a punch to the solar plexus, and he wonders how it is that he missed it before.

“Okay.” Jim drags a hand through his hair, then rubs the back of his neck. “Okay. So…uh.” He lets out a small, strained laugh. “This isn’t exactly a great time for this, Mr. Spock.” He starts to pace, keeping a distance from Spock, but he glances at him every so often. “We have some…guests onboard, and that’s enough of a stress on the crew. For the moment, we should keep this between us. At least, until we can figure out how the hell to get you back.”

“I believe beaming through the ion storm near Dekkhan will be the most logical choice of action,” Spock says. “And fortunately I do have the coordinates for the planet.”

“Okay. Yeah, that’s good. That works. You see if there’s anything in the database regarding the planet itself, and see if you can find anywhere that the conditions might replicate themselves. Last thing you need is to go universe hopping.”

Spock nods once. What Jim says is entirely true. Spock’s starting to feel strained now that he’s lost contact with his bondmate, and he knows the longer he’s away, the harder it will be to keep control of his emotions. “I will do my best to provide as much assistance as I can aboard the ship. I am to assume in this Universe, my counterpart is your First Officer?”

“Yeah. Yes,” Jim says, sounding bereft, and Spock can understand that emotion easily, even if he’s not allowing himself to feel it. “We should uh. We should talk, about differences in our worlds?”

“Affirmative,” Spock says, nodding, though he’s not entirely sure that is a good idea at all. He had taken longer than he cared to admit to tell his own Jim the depth of his regard for him, and he can’t begin to predict how another Jim Kirk might react. He cannot imagine that any Jim in any universe isn’t Spock’s T’hy’la, but there are no guarantees in a world he cannot predict.

Jim hesitates, and looks slightly uncomfortable. “I’m…not even sure where to begin.” They quickly exchange places of birth, and dates of birth. Then Jim tells him he served on the Farragut for years before he was given captaincy of the Enterprise, and Spock had served under Pike for just over a decade.

“That greatly differs from my own world,” Spock says hesitantly. “I…served under Captain Pike for a short amount of time, however the Romulan Nero…” He sees Jim straighten up and stiffen his shoulders at the mention of Romulan. “I am to understand that the Romulan Empire and the Federation are at odds?”

Jim nods, crossing his arms and stopping with his backside resting against his desk. He’s close to Spock, close enough now if their knees shifted, they would be touching, and Spock cannot allow that. He pulls away slightly as Jim says, “Yeah, we’re not on great terms. We didn’t know much about them until recently, though.”

Spock nods. “It is the same in my world, only…” Only Nero came through a rift in the space-time continuum and destroyed his planet and murdered his mother, and now he is part of an endangered species. What Spock realizes, a suddenly terrifying thought, is that in this world Vulcan may exist. His mother might be…

The pain is great and overwhelming, and it takes him several moments to regain his composure. 

“Spock?” Jim asks, gently enough that for a second, he sounds like Spock’s own Jim.

“My apologies, Captain. This has been most difficult to adjust to.” He clears his mind and pushes all of that behind his shield which is starting to feel strained and frail. “Where I come from, Vulcan is no more and my people are less than ten thousand.”

Jim’s eyes go wide, and he sucks in a breath, horrified. “Are you…Jesus, Spock. I…when? When did that happen?”

“Twenty-two, fifty-eight,” Spock says.

Jim’s eyes are wide. “But I hadn’t even…”

“There are very distinct differences, it seems. The Enterprise did not take her maiden Voyage until then, in my universe, and you had not yet left the Academy until we were called to arms against Nero and his people.” Spock gives him an even look.

Jim drags a hand down his face. “Right. Okay. Well…” He takes to pacing again, which is a trait shared by both Jims it seems, and it brings Spock some measure of familiarity and comfort. “So okay, you…know the basics here. I uh…shit. I don’t think I know much about your parents.”

Spock nods his head once. “That is to be expected, Captain. It would not be in my nature to speak about the affairs of other Vulcans when it is unnecessary. I do not think it will come up.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right. Are they…” Jim stops himself and shakes his head. “You know what, I think I’d rather not know that.”

Spock is overwhelmed with gratitude that he doesn’t yet have to admit aloud that where he’s from, his mother did not survive. “I think it would be most prudent to discuss with me our current mission, what my duties have been until this moment, and how I might assist so we can make our way toward Dekkhan.”

Jim nods. “Yeah. Okay so we just encountered a ship. It was breaking down pretty quick, and there were lifeforms aboard, so we beamed them up, and found them in Stasis pods. Bones isn’t exactly sure who they are, but he’s running some tests now, and we’re trying to get an ID. Does that sound…familiar, at all?”

Spock considers this, but no. They’ve had a lot of passengers on their Enterprise, but stasis pods are rare, and he can think of only one instance they were used, and they definitely hadn’t come from a ship in the middle of empty space. “Not that I can think of, Captain.”

Jim nods, then sighs. “Well, for now, we can go see how Bones is doing, and then get back to the Bridge. That should give you some time to research Dekkhan and see how long it’ll take us to get there, and if there’s an ion storm we can use to our advantage.”

“That is most logical,” Spock says, and he ignores the increasing ache in his mind because his katra, for the first time since the destruction of his planet, is completely alone.

~*~ 

Spock doesn’t accompany Jim to medbay. He finds it makes the most sense to head over to the bridge, to relieve Sulu until Jim has dealt with McCoy and their passengers. This might not be _his_ Enterprise, but he can stand in as Captain all the same. No one seems to notice a difference as he takes the conn, but he’s still on edge, and that must be visible because after some time, he hears a voice address him.

“Are you alright, sir?”

Spock turns, slightly startled, to see Nyota leaning over the back of her chair. She doesn’t entirely look like _his_ Nyota. Her hair is shorter, set in its more natural state than the straightened, long pony tail that his former companion in his world preferred. It suits her, he thinks. “I am fine, Lieutenant,” he says quietly.

She nods, but then rises and walks over to him. “Sir, if you need me to…”

“It is fine, Nyota,” he says. And then he notices the pregnant pause and the way she’s staring at him with wide eyes and it becomes very apparent that he does not address her by her given name. It was a slip he should not have made, and that disturbs him more than anything. “My apologies.”

She shakes her head, but steps back, and it’s very obvious now that whatever she is to him, they’re not exactly _friends_ here. A brief moment of illogic rises to the front of Spock’s mind and he thinks he should leave a message for his counterpart upon his return that he is missing out on something wonderful by not having a personal friendship with the Communications Officer.

He pushes that aside and gives himself quickly to his job.

A standard hour, then two passes, before Jim arrives on the Bridge. He looks vaguely concerned, and he’s got McCoy with him, trailing his heels looking just as worried, if not more. “Mr. Spock, would you mind a quick word with me in the briefing room?”

Spock nods, rises. “Of course, Captain.” Jim gives the conn to Sulu, then leads the way into the briefing room just off the bridge. It’s empty save for the three of them, and Spock crosses his arms, thinking maybe at this time Jim has divulged the information regarding Spock’s true identity to McCoy. It would only be logical. 

“Mr. Spock, we have been able to identify our passengers, and Bones here was able to dig up some history on them,” Jim says. “In light of that, you may be of some help to us, Spock, but I think Bones is going to need…the truth.”

Spock gives an internal sigh, but feels gratified that he’s almost in total control of his emotions. “I understand, Captain.”

Jim wastes not time in telling McCoy what Spock divulged, and McCoy looks like he wants nothing more than to strap Spock down and dig into his every cell to understand. But Jim moves the conversation on quickly. “I’m not sure I trust these people. Their leader—something about him makes me uneasy. He seems pleasant enough, of course, but…”

“Captain,” Spock interrupts, wanting to hurry this along. With Jim on the bridge, Spock can get to his actual work, attempting to return to his home, to his t’hy’la, a place where he does not feel like a hollowed out shell. “If I might inquire, what is the identity of this man? Although circumstances are not similar, it is possible I have encountered him, or perhaps in my Universe, another ship has and I have been made aware of the details.”

Jim looks over at McCoy, then says, “Does the name Kahn mean anything to you?”

Spock has been through a lot. Through the death of his planet, his people, his mother. Through the death of his bondmate, and then through the termination of his relationship with Nyota—though it was for the best, the pain was still very much a part of it. But nothing—he was certain of this—nothing could shake him like hearing that name. His hands clasped behind his back only to prevent himself from reaching for Jim.

This Jim has not yet been murdered by the superhuman madman.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, Mr. Spock,” McCoy says, his voice slightly tinged with disdain, but mostly wonder. “You’ve heard of him.”

Spock has to take a full thirty-three point two seconds to regain his composure. “My…my universe…” He’s still not in control and he realizes his anchors are so far from him now, they may well not exist. “He exists where I am from, yes.”

“And I take it that’s a bad thing,” Jim puts in.

“I would not trust anything he tells you, Captain,” Spock says. He has an urge to grab Jim, McCoy, and everyone else on the ship, to shove them into escape pods, and blow the Enterprise to bits with Khan and his people still aboard. “I urge you to…” Then Spock stops because he’s not entirely sure what he’s urging Jim to do. Khan is a murderer in his universe, and he can’t imagine him being anything else no matter how the circumstances have changed, but it would not be logical to react to a situation in which he does not possess all the facts. “I urge you to take extreme care.”

Jim’s eyes are soft, and apart from the strange, hazel color, they are so, so much like his own t’hy’la’s. “Spock,” Jim says, voice quiet, “is he one of the ones who destroyed…”

“No,” Spock says swiftly. “No. We encountered Khan after the destruction of my planet.” He then ignores McCoy’s sharp intake of breath.

“But he hurt people, didn’t he,” Jim says, and it’s not a question. “He’s dangerous.”

“I cannot speculate, Captain,” Spock replies. “I am without any facts regarding the man who exists in your universe, and therefore all I can do is urge you to use extreme caution regarding this man and his people. If circumstances are the same—and I believe they are—he is stronger and capable of a higher intelligence than an average Terran. As my Captain is so often fond of quoting, absolute power corrupts absolutely, and a man with that much power at his disposal…”

“Yes, Mr. Spock,” Jim says thoughtfully, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I believe your captain is a wise man.”

“He has his moments,” Spock says, just a hint of wry.

McCoy’s eyes widen. “Was that a _joke_? To Vulcans joke in your universe, Mr. Spock.”

Spock looks at him carefully. “Not to my knowledge, Dr. McCoy.”

Jim reaches out and claps him on the back as though he can’t help himself. “I would like my First Officer back at some point, but in his absence, I’m grateful to have you aboard. As for now, we have a small dinner planned for our guests, and when we’re through, we can discuss the future of these…superhumans.”

Spock is uneasy, but he allows Jim to lead him away.

~*~ 

They’re in their dress uniforms. Spock wearing the items of his counterpart which feels strange. He briefly wonders if maybe this is the Ambassador’s homeworld, but there is no way to tell, as the universes are most likely infinite. All the same, it gives him a comfort to know he’s possibly connected to something he’s already familiar with.

As he dresses, he feels a brief but intense longing—and an illogical hope that perhaps this Spock keeps something of his homeworld, possibly of his parents. He entertains the idea of a videocall to his mother, but knows that such a thing would leave him compromised—possibly to the extent that it would interfere with his ability to get back home. And there’s a slight pull, a desire he doesn’t want to examine, that thinks if he has to stay here, at least he has that. But the thought of truly losing Jim… _his_ Jim…it’s almost too much to bear.

He meets Jim and McCoy just outside of the formal dining room, and he feels a surge of apprehension and rage at the thought of once-again facing the man who nearly took Jim from him. He knows that he can tamp down on it, that he can control himself, but the longer he’s here, the weaker he feels. He looks over at the Captain and after a nod, they walk inside.

There are several officers already seated, and Khan is nowhere to be seen, which gives Spock a moment of reprieve as he takes his chair at Jim’s right. There’s a plate of what looks to be replicated Vulcan cuisine, and a set of chopsticks to eat with. He knows he should at least attempt sustenance, but the last thing he wants is food.

What little build up he has for his appetite is immediately crushed when the doors slide open and Khan enters. Spock is momentarily taken aback because he recognizes him immediately, even if he looks starkly different in this world. Perhaps it’s the long stasis in the chamber, or perhaps it’s…something else. He doesn’t know. What little information he has on Khan—that he was a tyrant in the twentieth century and put into stasis when he and his people were defeated—may not translate to this universe. But with the dark look in his eye—the one that Spock recognizes from when he nearly beat Khan to death—he thinks that perhaps they are one in the same. The thought makes his stomach twist, makes him want to reach across the table and stop this man before there’s another life in his hands.

“Glad you could join us,” Jim says, genial and diplomatic as ever. It nearly kills Spock that this Jim has no idea what this man is capable of. But, he thinks, should he say anything to disrupt history, it may impact his own future, especially if this universe is the one the Ambassador Spock is from. So he bites his tongue, not literally, but almost. “Please, have a seat.”

“Your hospitality is much appreciated, Captain,” Khan says. His voice is the same, if the accent is different. But the Khan they knew had been awake, had been struggling to save his people and had been forced to adapt and disguise himself.

Spock stares at him a long moment, and eventually catches his eye. “Are your people aboard the ship?”

Khan blinks at him, then nods. “They are. The good doctor was integral at waking them without lingering side-effects.”

So there is the difference. This Khan has his army with him. The family he sought to protect, and the only thing their Khan had left to lose. That terrifies him a little. If Khan’s people are not helpless, he isn’t sure how protective he’ll be. There is little Spock can threaten now.

“You seem unease, Mr. Spock,” Khan says.

Spock stares back evenly. “I find your presence disturbing.”

“My people are rather curious about your adventures, how you managed to escape the history books.”

Khan merely laughs. “Adventure, my dear Captain. It was quite an adventure.”

“After tyranny,” Spock cuts in, and he ignores the sharp look Jim gives him, and appreciates that Jim does not stop him.

Khan, for his part, is only slightly fazed by this. “In history, tyranny was not always such a bad thing. Subjugated people are not exempt from peace and happiness. I have read about your people, Mr. Spock. You sought it through logic, but such is not the way of humans.”

“Indeed not, but nor is slavery,” Spock says. There’s heat in his voice, but he thinks the only one capable of hearing it might be Khan. “And there is no peace in herding human like cattle, like keeping the animals in line with a single whip.”

Khan flinches. “How little you know,” he sneers.

Jim takes the moment to diffuse the argument. “Gentlemen…”

“My apologies, Captain. I find myself…not hungry. Would you mind if I take my leave?”

“No. Meet me in my Ready Room after this,” Jim says. He doesn’t sound happy, but his glower is fixed on Khan, not Spock.

It’s with his control in tatters that Spock leaves the room, and can barely swallow past yet another missed opportunity to kill the man who so ruthlessly discarded the lives of others.

~*~ 

Spock’s head which was bowed into two fingers, steepled against his forehead in a light mediation, snaps up when he becomes aware of the Captain’s presence. He rises and clasps his hands behind his back as Jim crosses the room, looking weary and concerned. He takes a seat and makes a vague gesture that Spock interprets as a request for ease, and Spock complies, sinking back down into the vacated chair.

“Captain, I must extend my regret for my behavior which was most unbecoming of a Starfleet Officer who…”

“Spock,” Jim says from behind a sigh, and Spock immediately quiets. “You weren’t wrong. And it’s obvious that whatever this man did…”

“He killed you,” Spock says, and the words are like trying to speak through a throat of glass-shards, but he forces them out. His voice is hoarse and he can feel the slight tremble in it, even if he knows Jim can’t hear it. “He nearly destroyed the Enterprise, took the lives of several Cadets, of many Starfleet Officers, and…”

“And me,” Jim finishes.

Spock nods, and takes a moment to compose himself. “And you. Not…as directly as he killed the others, however his actions directly lead to your death.”

“So where you come from, I’m,” Jim says, his voice slightly strained.

Spock shakes his head. “No, Jim. We managed to…Dr. McCoy found…” He’s hesitant, only because he doesn’t think this situation will play out the way it did in his own world, and he’s not sure that telling this Jim what Khan’s blood is capable of is a good idea. “He was able to bring you back. Not without a price, however it was one I believe anyone was willing to pay.”

Spock can see a thousand questions burning behind those hazel eyes, but Jim does not ask them. Instead he says, “Then we’d better get this situation under control before it all goes to hell.”

Spock agrees. Unfortunately, Spock—once again—underestimated the man. It isn’t long before Spock is sitting helpless, watching Jim through a small window, as the life is sucked out of him.

~*~ 

Spock’s mind is a mess of desperation and horror and he thinks to himself, _Am I really to sit here and watch my t’hy’la once again die at the hands of this creature?_

When Khan says, “If only one of you will join me, I will spare this man’s life,” it is by will alone that Spock does not rise and fall to his knees in order to save Jim. The driving force is simple—Khan is lying. Spock is fortunate enough to know that nothing they do will spare Jim’s life, or the lives of whomever Khan plans to take once he regains enough power. So he sits in silence.

Then the screen they’re viewing him on goes dead, and Khan seems unbothered which is illogical because just moments before, the woman Khan had enthralled left the room and it was obvious she found it distasteful. It is only sensible to assume she had cut the viewing screen and attempted to rescue Jim.

It feels like one of Jim’s miracles that Spock is ordered to be next. One of Khan’s men has him—and he is stronger than Spock, but not as clever. He plays docile, plays resigned to his fate and he’s walked around a corner to where Jim is waiting. Suddenly there’s a phaser in his hand and there’s hope.

And Jim.

Jim still lives.

This Jim is not his, but this Jim does belong to _a_ Spock, and Spock knows there’s more than just Captain and First Officer in the moment that he realized Jim was not surprised to see him, and that there was no hesitation in taking him by the elbow to lead him away.

In the end, subduing Khan is less climactic than his own world. The Enterprise is still in space, nowhere near earth. There was a moment—shaky as it was that Jim was in danger, but then Khan is unconscious and his people are subdued and Jim is triumphant again.

“This is unwise, Captain,” Spock warns him after they leave Ceti Alpha V’s orbit. He’s staring out the viewscreen of the observation deck, with Jim at his elbow. “Leaving him alive only means in the future…”

“I know,” Jim says from behind a sigh. He turns slightly, glances up at Spock. “How did you kill him in your universe?”

Spock looks away from Jim’s imploring gaze. “I nearly beat him to death. You had died, and I could not maintain my emotional control. Nyota stayed my hand.”

Jim huffs a laugh. “Uhura?”

Spock gives a very human shrug. “She had a reason compelling enough to stop me. You were saved, and Khan and his people remain in stasis.”

“So we’re the same. I mean…in the future, the threat? It’s the same.”

“It is the same,” Spock concedes, because in truth, he has no idea where Khan and his people were taken, and he does not trust Starfleet, nor does he trust the future. Not with the life of his bondmate.

“So what now, Mr. Spock? I assume we ought to get you home, and I certainly hope this little…detour didn’t destroy your chances.”

“I do not believe it has, if there is a chance at all, Captain,” Spock says. He moves to turn away so he can begin researching Dekkhan, but he’s stopped by Jim’s hand on his arm. “Captain?”

“What are we, Spock? You and me, in your universe?”

Spock’s throat tightens, and he cannot help himself. He reaches up, clasps his fingers over Jim’s and squeezes for only a moment. A brief indulgence to give him strength. “We are what we are, Jim. I do not believe it is—or will remain—different in any universe where we exist together.”

“Do you think I’ll get my Spock back?” Jim wonders, and now Spock hears the strain in his voice, the longing. Yes, he thinks, it is no different, even if it takes longer.

Spock turns to Jim carefully, meets his gaze. “I shall endeavor to bring him back to you, Captain.”

Then he’s released from Jim’s hand, and he leaves the observation deck.

~*~ 

It doesn’t take as long as he feared it might. It only makes sense that they were close to Dekkhan—and Spock suspects they flew through the ion storm without realizing how near to the planet they were. That was how the switch happened, and he is able to map another of the same strength which he hopes will bring him home.

Jim sees him to the transporter room, the calculations as precise as he can get them. He meets hazel eyes and he allows himself an illogical hope that the next eyes he sees are the same blue as the Terran sky. He only can hope that this place has seen the last of Khan, that—cruelly—the unforgiving planet of Ceti Alpha V will see Khan bow and succumb to the elements. He can only hope that the Spock who belongs here will not know the pain of losing the one he loves most. The missing piece of his katra.

He gives Jim a final nod, and holds up the ta’al before looking over at the ensign. “Energize,” he says.

He feels the familiar tug, and then he is gone.

~*~

Spock materializes on the transporter pad, and it’s to a desperate face of Jim, and a sudden rush of fear and apprehension in his bond. Spock sends a wave of relief, and love, and contentment and he manages to cross the distance between himself and Jim before Jim’s knees give way. His arms gather Jim to his chest and he holds him, breathes in the scent of him, and it feels like finally being allowed oxygen after far too long.

Jim makes a distressed noise in the back of his throat, and his hands are running all over Spock, seeking and pressing fingertips into warm skin. “You beamed away, and a second later you were back, but the bond was empty and he was…it wasn’t you. Spock, it wasn’t you.”

“Yes, ashaya. I know,” Spock murmurs. He reaches down, tips Jim’s head up for a kiss the human way, even as Jim’s first two fingers seek his own. Spock feels a pulsing hum of rightness, of the bond completing itself again. He’s aware there’s an ensign trying to get past them, to give them a moment of privacy, and he manages to inch himself and Jim to the side just enough to allow the poor man to leave.

The door slides shut, and Spock crowds Jim back up against it, their mouths seeking each others as though the kissing can erase those long, eternal hours of distance.

“I was afraid you weren’t coming back. God…Spock…”

Spock cradles Jim’s face in his hands, and his eyes stare into the stark, bright blue ones he had missed with every fiber of his being. He swallows, composes himself, but pushes everything he’s feeling inside at his mate. It takes a moment before he’s ready to speak again, but he does. “I will always return to you.”

Jim’s smile lights up like the sun.


End file.
